


A Retributive Punishment

by Athenais_Penelope_Clemence, Countess_of_Sherwood



Series: Robin Hood scenes [12]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006), Robin Hood (Traditional), Robin Hood - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Canon Extension, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Legends, Light Angst, Love, Love Stories, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 11:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9489809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athenais_Penelope_Clemence/pseuds/Athenais_Penelope_Clemence, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Countess_of_Sherwood/pseuds/Countess_of_Sherwood
Summary: As Allan’s betrayal places the lives of Marian and the outlaws in terrible jeopardy, Robin takes the matter into his hands and is determined to inflict a retributive punishment on Allan. Only Marian’s plea to spare Allan saves the traitor. Then, Robin’s finagling of his beloved’s attentions makes Marian reward the hero generously.A canonical scene and canon extension from 2x07 which are written from Allan, Robin, and Marian’s POVs.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Athenais_Penelope_Clemence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athenais_Penelope_Clemence/gifts), [Madame_Marguerite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Marguerite/gifts), [Coleen561](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coleen561/gifts).



> Co-Authors are: **Penelope Clemence** and **Countess of Sherwood**.
> 
> Many thanks to Coleen561 for sharing her thoughts about this story and for helping with some scenes.
> 
> This story is a gift for Penelope, Robinetichek, and Coleen.
> 
> Although in canon Robin confessed to loving Marian in this very scene, in the series of our one-shots, it happened earlier. Let's suppose that it is the first moment when he does tell her about his love - only in this one-shot.
> 
> Disclaimer: We don’t own BBC’s Robin Hood or any of the show's characters. We have no rights to the canonical plots and storylines.

**A Retributive Punishment**

_The Castle of Nottingham, interior corridor, near the kitchens_

His senses on alert, Allan paused in the corridor as he heard a whistle near the stairs. Another whistle sounded, and Allan peered through the doorway at the stairs. Unexpectedly, Robin stepped out from behind the jamb, causing Allan to back away. His eyes shimmering with all shades of lurid blue, Robin glanced at Allan with chilly contempt, as if the traitor were a mass of mud and filth from head to foot. By Robin’s expression, one could see that he was thinking of some sort of a retributive punishment.

Allan’s first impulse was to flee immediately. He and Robin had fought over a cauldron of the boiling water several days ago, and there was no way his former leader could forget about that and, more importantly, about his treachery.  _I don’t want to talk to you now, Robin, because nothing good will come out of this. We can chat away for hours, but you will not believe me that I regret betraying you and the lads._ Allan sighed, and a flash of hard emotion in Robin’s eyes sobered him into a scrutinizing watchfulness.

A sense of terror snaked down his spine as Allan asked, “Robin?”

His eyes blank, an ugly twist to his fine mouth, Robin inquired forbiddingly, “Expecting to find your new friend, Gisborne, Allan?”

Allan’s breath caught in his throat in a gasp of half-anger, half-fear. He tried to defuse the tension with small talk. “Listen, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I had no choice. I would never take him to the camp.”

Robin scoffed, his lips curved like a crescent moon which the traitor would not see tonight after darkness blanketed the earth, as he would cut the thread of Allan’s life. His inner censorious voice reproached him for thinking of taking Allan’s life, but his fury and his fear for Marian’s safety superseded all other feelings. Robin was so very incensed that he was barely resisting the urge to get into a brawl with Allan right now.

One of his hands flying to the dagger sheathed at his belt, Robin stared intently at Allan’s face, unmoved by the fright of death he saw in the eyes of his former friend. Now Allan looked like one of the desperate inhabitants of a subjugated city where soldiers of the victorious army swarmed through the streets while the panic-stricken population was running from them like from a pack of ravening wolves. _It is a savage age we live in, and only one cruel law prevails – atrocity must be met by greater atrocity. I cannot avoid bloodshed, even though I don’t want to kill, and I cannot spare Allan’s life, Robin thought._

The trembling voice of an extremely distressed Allan pulled Robin out of his musings. “I wouldn’t. I love you, Robin, all of you.”

Robin’s lips were brittle with an acrid rejoinder. “That’s very touching. But as they say, love hurts.”

The leader of the outlaws then punched Allan in the nose, making him fall against a nearby wall. Robin swiftly drew his scimitar and swung it at Allan who ducked and hastily unsheathed his own sword. The outlaw directed an overhead strike at his adversary which was blocked. They exchanged more blows, Robin’s blade clanging powerfully against Allan’s, as Robin was driving the traitor backward with the sheer fury of his animosity and with his expert swordsmanship.

Robin’s handsome face was twisted into a mask of virulent abhorrence, as if a menacing storm cloud was concealing the sun that usually illuminated his easy features; his lips were slightly parted, as if Robin were cursing the moments when he had saved Allan’s life. As Allan parried, his eyes met Robin’s, and he shuddered as Robin’s icy blue glare impaled him, compelling him to realize once more than the heart of his former leader was an inexhaustible fund of anger and hate for him.

Allan had never been as terrified, to the marrow of his bones, as he was now; not even in the tavern where Robin had exposed him as a traitor. At present, Robin was a soldier, perfect and efficient, his face haloed by the crimson glow of fiery wrath. Allan had never really contemplated Robin’s undercurrent of darkness, not even after the battle near the cave where Marian had almost died, but the reality of this aspect of Robin’s nature was now inescapable. The agony of the traitor’s fear wrung his heart so awfully that he longed to get out of Robin’s sight and hearing, and to go a place where he could wait passively for death in repose instead of being slain by Robin.

Allan’s guilt-ridden conscience detected the incriminating truth: Robin’s actions were a direct and well-deserved consequence of his treachery.  _It is only my fault. I betrayed Robin and the lads. I was broken by Gisborne’s torture; Guy also seduced me with offers of money. Robin wouldn’t have tried to murder me if I hadn’t deceived him. And he still has no idea that Roger of Stoke is dead._ There was not even a shadow of doubt in Allan’s head that his actions merited death at Robin’s hands, but he coveted his life. Nevertheless, his skills as a consummate liar were useless in the face of Robin’s righteous anger, and his mind had exhausted all options that might allow him to justify his betrayal. 

It was true that Robin didn’t have the slightest wish to spare the traitor.  _You are not like the lads and me, Allan! You are a traitor to England, King Richard, and your friends! You are a traitor to yourself! You do not have any morals, and you cannot understand what loyalty and friendship are!_  Allan’s easy betrayal of everything that Robin and his band represented, and the short-lived anguish of Robin’s immoderate compassion were succeeded by a pitiless rage. It all became extinct at once –thought, intention, effort – Robin’s whole world was focused on his mission to kill the traitor.

A bit surprised by Allan’s tenacity in the face of his rampageous assault, Robin instantly engaged his foe in a new onslaught. As his opponent presented an opening in his defenses, Robin promptly seized his chance and kicked the traitor down the stairs; then he quickly pursued the man’s tumbling form.

“Don’t do it, Robin!” beseeched Allan as he clambered to his feet.

But Robin didn’t listen to him, and all he could see was a thick red mist before his eyes. Robin struck with a lightning swiftness, and Allan dodged, the sound of steel against steel ringing brutally in the air. Robin’s next blow was so strong that it forced the other man to his knees, and in an attempt to save his life, Allan pushed the blade aside and fell to his hands. Allan then jumped to his feet while Robin jabbed his elbow into his rival’s shoulder, causing the traitor to stagger back onto another set of steps.

Robin brought the weapon down, but Allan rolled away and scrambled up the steps into the kitchen. In the space of a few heartbeats, Robin was already charging up the stairs.  The fight between the two former friends continued as Robin was endeavoring to corner Allan who was fending off his determined assaults. Allan rained down on Robin a diagonal blow that his former leader blocked with both hands and then hit him with the hilt into the groin. Allan moaned in pain and tumbled to the floor; he then crawled under a table, and his disappearing feet barely escaped Robin’s attack.

As he climbed from beneath the table, Allan requested, “Let’s just talk about this.”

With a negative shake of the head, Robin growled, “Yeah, let’s talk. And you can start by telling me where the sheriff…” He paused for a moment as he swiped the dishes off the table. He continued, “… keeps his documents!”

Allan cried earnestly, “I don’t know! Look, I just told him to empty his strong room, that’s it!”

Holding his sword at Allan over the table, Robin grunted, the pale blue eyes hard and unfathomable. “You must know where he has moved the pact.”

“I swear I don’t,” blurted out Allan, looking fearfully at the other man.

Robin paced the length of the table, his countenance that of a cutthroat, his eyes smoldering with ire. As he stopped and locked his gaze with Allan’s, a crimson shade of anger ran over his features, and his eyes blazed with a demonic fury. A gigantic shadow of bloodlust was deepening around Robin like the darkness of an advancing night, and his rough inner voice hailed his solidifying resolve to kill his adversary.

Allan’s voice startled Robin out of his musings. “Maybe his room. There’s a safe in there. Trust me, Robin!”

“Trust you? No, I don’t think so,” answered Robin without hesitation.

As a wave of ire undulated deep inside him, Robin swung over the table with blood in his eyes, but once again, Allan ducked. Robin wielded his scimitar at a large pan hanging from the ceiling to knock it out of his way, and then stomped forward.

His perturbation suddenly blindingly apparent from the expression on his face, Allan exclaimed, “I told you, I’d never betray you!”

Robin burst out accusingly, “You already have. And next you’ll betray Marian.”

Allan stepped back through a curtained doorway as Robin swung his sword again. He deflected the attack, and in response, Robin shoved aside the curtain to his right.

“I’m not a Judas,” murmured Allan.

The storm that raged in Robin’s heart intensified. “And I’m no Jesus.”

Anticipating Allan’s next move as the traitor thrust his sword forward, Robin twisted the left curtain in front of him, grabbed Allan’s wrist, and knocked the sword from his hand. Now Allan was disarmed and at the mercy of an incensed Robin Hood who was intent upon killing him, or doing something else equally detrimental.

His features a grimacing mask of despair mingled with horror, Allan swiveled and started backing through the kitchens the way he had come in. Robin glided through the curtained doorway after him, moving in a predatory manner, like a tiger stalking his prey. His eyes caverns of fury, Robin swung his scimitar low, but Allan was fortunate to grab a long-handled metal spoon and then blocked the blow with it.

The macabre flame of murder in Robin’s eyes apprised Allan that he was facing a battle for his survival. Doggedly, he fought on, only dimly aware of his surroundings, his entire world concentrated on the preservation of his life. Robin’s fury was not decreasing even a bit, and Allan felt as if he were resisting a horde of Vaisey’s guards, not just one man. It was a ghastly situation for Allan who had no chance to gain the upper hand in combat against such an experienced and talented foe. As the scuffle continued, Allan’s reflexes and reactions were becoming slower and slower, his arms feeling like a lead weight.

As a series of Robin’s thrusts and Allan’s parries with the spoon, Robin rammed his fist into the other man’s ribs and then drove Allan’s head into the copper pan, getting a fistful of his jacket and then punching him again. Allan spun around near the table, his back to Robin who swung a bench over his head. Allan rolled along the table, grabbed a knife off a cutting board, and threw it at the vengeance-possessed man who evaded the danger.

Eventually, Allan was stalemated and vanquished, and he gazed up at Robin who was kneeling over him. Desperate, poignant laments filled Allan’s mind.  _Robin ,_ _will you murder me now? Once you spared my life, but will you show mercy to me again? I want you to know that I’m sorry for betraying you and the lads. I’m very sorry that your friend, Roger, is dead; I’m complicit in his murder, and I grieve for what I’ve done._  Allan buried these entreaties and apologies in his heart, for he knew that if he had voiced them, it would have been a pathetic attempt to convince Robin of things the hero wouldn’t believe.

His former friend – the words echoed through the walls of Robin’s mind tinctured in shades of crimson, a wave of sentimental pity passed through his heart, and he hesitated. But Allan was a  _traitor_! A traitor who had ended by turning vicious in spite of all the love the outlaws and Robin had given him! His inner voice yelled a reminder of Allan’s betrayal, and an enraged Robin had the inclination to scream, as though he had been flayed.

Treachery cast a spell of infernal gloom over Allan, and every nerve in Robin’s body was tingling with hostility at that thought. As his mind reverted at once to Marian whose life was placed in awful jeopardy by Allan’s treachery, Robin’s frenzied heart morphed into a conflagration of fire.  _Marian’s life is stake! God and all saints will not inordinately kind to you today, Allan, because I will never allow you to harm Marian!_

Robin had mastered the art of killing in the Holy Land, and now he would destroy just another man in the long list of those whose lives he had taken. His eyes glistening savagely, Robin pulled a dagger from his belt and pressed it to Allan’s throat.

Robin snarled viciously, “Now.”

“Please. I don’t wanna die,” begged Allan, his eyes wide with consternation. He braced himself for the further conversation in order to finagle Robin into granting him a reprieve.

In a split second, Marian came hurrying down the steps, but Robin was on the traitor.

His eyes flashing with hatred and disdain, Robin spoke in a voice colored with a bestial rage. “Well, that’s the only way you’re gonna escape me.”

“Robin, spare him!” requested Marian in a loud, urgent voice.

A suddenly daunted Robin looked up at her. In a shaky voice, he supplied, “I can’t.”

She rushed to Robin’s side and put her hand over the knife. “Please. Do it for me.”

Indecision written clearly across his features, Robin still felt as if he had bolted himself in a coffin of fright that Marian would probably be killed if he spared Allan. “Marian, I’m doing this for you, to protect you.”

“Robin,” she called softly, gazing into his eyes. “Robin, please.” She placed one hand behind his head and the other on his cheek. Her next words came like some part of an appeasing rite. “If you love me, you will let him go.”

Without a pause and hesitation, in a clear, firm voice layered with a cosmic devotion, Robin articulated, “I do love you, and that’s why I can’t let him live.” He trailed off for an instant, feeling her hand slip from his face. Holding her gaze, he went on. “…because one day he’ll do something to take you away from me.”

“I wouldn’t,” choked out Allan as hope for survival stirred in him.

As Robin didn’t take the dagger away from the traitor’s throat, Marian solicited again, “Please. Don’t taint us with his blood.”

Robin was profoundly touched by the pathos of his beloved’s entreating voice. He reluctantly let go of Allan and seated back as Marian’s fingers clenched whitely on the dagger. Robin could see Marian’s shoulders sag with relief, but her eyes remained troubled. With a blend of curiosity and amazement, Robin watched Marian roughly grab Allan’s shoulder while the traitor was clumsily attempting to crawl away.

For a moment, Marian was holding Robin’s gaze. Then she hurled the dagger into a sack in front of his head. As Allan paused and looked back at her, she hissed, “You owe me your life! Don’t you ever betray me!”

Allan gave a nod, his face white in shock. “I won’t,” he promised. He moved forward, away from the couple, then stood up, and scurried away like a frightened rabbit.

After Allan’s hasty retreat to his quarters, Marian and Robin sat in silence for a few moments, staring into one another’s eyes, as if they were in the grip of magical perfection that evoked in them a sense of both liberty and felicity on earth. From their trial and tribulations, they discovered that the power of  _their love_ was stronger than life and even death. Their minds was teeming with the future pictures of them living in at Locksley Manor together and sitting at the table every day, seraphic smiles on their faces.

Marian’s heart was pounding as if she were a bird soaring through the sky and crossing its boundaries.  _Robin loves me! He loves me! I have always known this, and he came close to confessing a few times. But he has never said these magical words!_ The sweetness of love submerged the deepest recesses of her mind, like massive torrents of rain deluging the earth. Marian wished to marry him so desperately, but they couldn’t until the king’s return! The consciousness of this torturing knowledge was so acute that every time she thought of it, her whole being transformed into in a state of unendurable, brimful suffering.

She thrust aside those sorrowful thoughts. Yet, when she found her voice again, there was something like a curious disbelief etched into her countenance as it was difficult to believe in the advent of the time when Robin’s feelings for her were verbalized in words. “Took you a long time to tell me that,” murmured Marian slowly.

His intrigued eyes meeting hers, Robin got out carefully, “Tell you what?”

She tilted her head to one side as she whispered, “You know...”

As he realized the meaning of his words, Robin felt warmth seep into his heart and soul. There was a sense of perfect harmony between them, and there was a great gaiety about them both too. Dazzled by their happiness, carried somewhere to the border between dreams and waking, Robin and Marian burst out laughing, both falling deeper in love with the other, both cherishing this ambrosial moment. The celestial sun rose in the souls of the two heroes and illuminated them with a divine light of endless idyll.

As if startled out of a dream of perfection, he jested, “I must have been half-concussed.” His voice was slightly hoarse from the passion that was building inside him.

Marian chuckled. “Well, you’ll be fully concussed if you don’t watch out.”

He dipped his head in agreement. His features suddenly becoming serious, he switched to another topic. “I think I know where the pact is.” She nodded, and they both stood up.

“Where are we going now?”

Supremely wise in knowing his own powerlessness to Marian’s charms, Robin fought to temper his desire but failed. He engulfed her into his arms, and his mouth captured hers in a searing kiss, their lips and hearts singing the stanza about the great love of their lives, the feeling woven of grace and charm, of an exalted faithfulness to each other and an eternal devotion. The love was the sole inspiration for the kiss; they were joined by the words  _‘I love you’_  as indissolubly as the reverse and obverse sides of a medal.

**Author's Note:**

> There is some very exciting news! Penelope and Coleen have been hard at work on a new series which is tentatively titled, **_The Robin Hood Trilogy._** The first novel in the trilogy is almost complete, the second novel is in the editing phase, and they started to work on book 3.
> 
> Their upcoming Robin Hood Trilogy is a completely original work that will feature not only the legendary characters from the ballads of Robin Hood but also real historical figures. You can also count on meeting some unforgettable original characters! We anticipate publication of the first book in 2017. 
> 
> **Here is the blurb:**
> 
> England, 1154-1194
> 
> A Kingdom under Assault.  
> Bold Conspiracies of Unthinkable Malevolence.  
> A Lone Man Taking a Stand against Tyranny and Evil.
> 
> Their lives are shrouded in mystery and controversy – Henry II, Eleanor of Aquitaine, Richard the Lionheart, and John Lackland. The first Plantagenets: a dynasty born of anarchy and nurtured by intrigue. Although they would govern England for over three centuries, no threat to their rule would be greater than the secrets hidden within the tangled family tree of their ancestor, William the Conqueror.
> 
> As shadowy forces gather to attack the Plantagenet royal family, there is only one man who can defeat the evil that threatens to destroy the future of a nation.
> 
> Bow in hand, Robin Fitzooth, the Earl of Huntingdon, confronts the growing darkness and becomes Robin Hood. He will face deception, betrayal, and the ravages of war as he fights to defend his king, his country, his people, and the woman he loves from a conspiracy so diabolical, so unexpected, that the course of history hangs in the balance.
> 
> A battle between good and evil, justice and tyranny, the future and the past.


End file.
